Banana Pancakes
by Linxcat
Summary: It was a face I knew well and one he knew I could never resist, not when snuggling under the covers was on offer over sitting in a cold classroom. Another five minutes couldn’t do any harm, right? Wrong.


I spared a moment to examine the mutilated remains of the alarm clock, lying in pieces at the foot of the bed, and another to gingerly trace the small dent the unfortunate device had made as it collided with the wall, before I turned back to my husband.

"You need to get up, Tyson." I said sternly, frowning over at him.

"Don't wanna."

The somewhat childish reply was muffled by both pillow and duvet, but the rebellious intent was unmistakable. I sighed and walked towards the bedroom door, placing one hand on my hip and the other on the doorknob as Tyson peeped curiously out from under the covers.

"I'll get the ice water."

"You're bluffing!" he cried, lifting his head cautiously out, "We haven't got an icemaker!"

"No, but we do have a large packet of frozen peas in the freezer."

The memory of this threat being delivered in the past made him flinch and dive deeper into his warm cocoon with a yelp.

"I mean it," I warned, striding back over to the bed and prodding him several times with my foot, "I've got to be at school early today to mark the second set's maths tests and you _promised_ Kenny that you'd go in to the lab this morning."

Tyson shuffled around before emerging from the covers, his dark hair dishevelled and a scattering of stubble over his jaw from where he'd neglected to shave the day before. He swatted my foot away and gave me a pleading look.

"You know Kenny can do just fine without me," he pulled a face, "Besides, it's _raining_."

I paused and listened and, yes, to his credit, it was fairly tipping it down outside. I chuckled and knelt beside him on the bed.

"Tyson, it's not as if you're going to be outside today."

"It's a long way from the front door to the car, okay?" he grumbled, folding his arms. "I'm not moving!"

I laughed at his determined expression, jabbing my fingers into his sides to make him squirm involuntarily.

"You big baby! Come on, get up!"

When Tyson did not move, I grabbed the corner of the duvet and, in one fluid movement, flicked it off the bed. He cried out as the cold air hit his body and lifted his head, flashing me a pained look in an effort to make me feel guilty as he scrambled to pull the sheets back over himself.

I shook my head. "Oh no, don't give me that look. I warned you!"

Sensing that the guilt trip wasn't working, he tried a better strategy. Propping himself up on his elbow, he stretched out his arms towards me, cocking his head to one side with an adorably hopeful expression. It was a face I knew well and one he _knew_ I could never resist, not when snuggling under the covers was on offer over sitting in a cold classroom. Another five minutes couldn't do any harm, right?

I slipped beneath the duvet and into Tyson's embrace, ignoring his triumphant grin.

"It's cold out," I mumbled by way of explanation, wrapping my arms tightly around him as he enfolded me in his own. He chuckled and I felt the pillow shift as he nodded in agreement.

"'S raining too." He added, and I could almost see the smug grin, knowing that he'd actually _won_ an argument, even if it was by default because I'd given in. I supposed he deserved one little victory. And I was too sleepy to argue; the bed was warm and my head was comfortable resting on Tyson's chest.

It was beside me how he managed to sleep topless in midwinter without getting cold, but I sure wasn't complaining! Years of daily training had toned him (eventually) and made him a comfortable, if firm, pillow. I made the mistake, however, of breathing in deeply through my nose.

A comfortable, firm, _bad smelling_ pillow.

"Ugghh," I groaned, rearranging myself so that my face was no longer pressed into his armpit, "Tyson, you need a shower."

I felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled, wrapping his arms tighter around me in response, my chin now resting against his collarbone and his breath tickling my cheek.

"Only if you take one with me," he murmured in my ear. I assumed he was trying to sound seductive, but the sleepiness in his tone kind of ruined it, making me giggle softly.

"Nice try, loverboy," I shot back. Or, uh, would have shot back if I hadn't been so cosy and my eyelids quite so heavy. It came out as more of a mumble. All thoughts of heading to school had left my mind by now; instead it was filled with pleasant thoughts of spending the day snuggling and sharing showers...

The alarm clock, however, was having none of it.

Tyson's arm shot out instinctively to fling it from the bedside table and he paused for a few moments, confused, as his hand met thin air, before remembering that it was sitting in pieces at the end of the bed.

The shrill cry woke me from my sleepiness at once and I jumped out of bed, instantly panicked.

"That's the late alarm!"I shrieked, stumbling over to the dresser to try and find my clothes, "It only goes off when I'm going to be LATE! Oh, gosh, I'm going to be so late!"

Tyson, much to my irritation, didn't seem concerned. Instead, he shuffled to the end of the bed, still wrapped in the duvet, and eyed the wailing alarm clock in admiration of its miraculous survival, before stifling its cries with heavy blow from the bedside lamp.

The large dent now in the side of my grandmother's antique lamp was the least of my worries as I scurried around the room in my pyjamas looking for a pair of tights that were not yet laddered. I paused in my hunt as Tyson's movement – or, rather, lack of – occurred to me.

"Tyson! Get up! You promised Kenny that you'd go into the lab this morning and I-"

"Yeah, yeah," Tyson waved a hand dismissively, "We've already been through this and it winds up with frozen peas and me being poked. I'm not getting up, it's raining."

I rolled my eyes, frustrated, "That's not a reason to not go out! You need to get up, now, or you'll be walking to the lab, because I'm not waiting around for you to get ready!"

"Hah!" Tyson raised a finger in triumph, "We have _two_ cars!"

"Yes, we do, but Max borrowed the Lamborghini for the week so he could visit Mariam whilst he was in Japan, remember?"

Tyson looked slightly put out, "Aww, man, he took the Lamborghini...?" he grumbled. I snorted.

"You thought he'd take the _C1_?" I asked, aware that my precious getting-ready time was slipping away. Tyson pulled a face at me.

"Ohh, we could'a got _two_ nice cars, we have the money, but _ohh no_, you had to go for the crappy eco-friendly car," he scowled, folding his arms, "Out of all the cars you could have bought...!"

"Tyson!" I cried, patience running out as my eye caught the time from the small clock on the dresser, "Up! Now! I don't have time for this!"

"No way." He insisted. I narrowed my eyes furiously.

"Get up now, or, so help me, that packet of frozen peas will down the front of your pants faster than you can say 'ice kills sperm'!" I hissed.

Tyson visibly flinched, my threat obviously hostile to his dreams of ever raising the next beyblading world champion, but still did not shift from the bed. I arched an eyebrow.

"You think I'm bluffing?" I strode towards the door, wrenched it open and was just about to proceed to the kitchen when Tyson played his trump card.

"Wait – I'll...I'll make banana pancakes!"

I stopped in my tracks, fingers still gripping the door handle. Slowly, I turned back to him.

He had me there.

"B...banana...?" I mumbled.

The Granger banana pancakes were, in a word, _amazing_. Mrs Granger had taught Hiro, and Hiro had taught Tyson. He made them for us, once, as a celebration after we defeated one of the various evils that it seemed to be our job to defeat, and it was now fact that any member of the Bladebreakers would _kill_ for even a forkful of the gorgeous substance. And Max didn't even _like_ bananas.

A sly grin curved up the corners of Tyson's mouth. He had me and knew it.

"Banana pancakes, Hil. You want some?" he teased.

I was practically drooling at the mention, but the thought of work still niggled.

"Can't…can't you make them _before_ I go to work?" I pleaded. He shook his head.

"Come on, Hil, what would you rather do; spend the day with me or with a class of brats?"

I opened my mouth to speak but I was cut off by a strange sound that originated from the bedside table. We both paused for a second, confused, before realisation hit and we jumped into action at the same time. I dove for my mobile but Tyson snatched it from my fingertips with a cry of triumph, rolling over away from me and bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Tyson!" I hissed, kneeling beside him on the bed and trying desperately to prise the device out of his hands. Any call on _my _mobile was surely a call for _me_.Unfortunately his grip was iron-fast and he wriggled away, his head now at the other end of the bed. He shot a grin over his shoulder at me.

"Yes, this is Tyson Granger, Mrs Granger's husband…ooh, late?"

I let out a low moan of anguish – late! The school was calling up my house like I was some skiving pupil! How embarrassing! How _humiliating_! I scrambled onto Tyson's back and wrestled the phone from him, but he caught it back and spun around, so he was sitting on the opposite side of the bed, facing me.

"No, Hilary's not late, she's…ill." He smirked at me as I dived for him, but the damage had already been done. He fell backwards and I sat on his stomach, one hand clamped around his wrist and the other pulling at his fingers.

"Oh, yes, she's got a bad case of…Tysonitus."

"_Tysonitus_?" I wailed furiously, battering his chest with my fists and yanking the phone from his ear. He swung his hand from my grasp and rolled over so that I was smothered beneath him, before waggling his eyebrows suggestively and speaking into the phone again.

"Well, it's kind of like…the 'flu…Yes, very nasty, it'll take her all weekend to recover…she may even have to take Monday off too…"

"No!" I screeched tugging my hands free from where they'd been trapped underneath me but Tyson pulled himself up so that he was now sitting on my stomach, holding the phone out of my reach. I tried pinging the waistband of his pyjama bottoms but there was very little effect, so I resorted to poking his stomach and screaming at him instead.

"That? That was…the cat!...Really? Well, uh, we have one now!" Tyson laughed nervously as he saw my furious expression, "Yes, well, Hil can't come in today so haveanicedaygoodbye!"

The last few words were jumbled together with speed; Tyson just finished the phone call before I rolled over quite violently and flung him off me. The mobile phone dropped onto the bed and I snatched it up, then howled as I saw that he'd ended the call. I threw the device at his head and brought my knees to my chest in a sulk.

"Aww, come on Hil, at least there's no way you have to go into school now, right?" he wrapped his arms around me from the back and snuggled his face into my shoulder, "Look on the bright side – you get to spend the whole day with me!"

"Hmm," I said, a small smile on my face as something occurred to me. I spun around suddenly, catching Tyson off guard so he fell back. I sat on him, one leg either side of his stomach and a hand pinning down each shoulder, my lips finding his in a matter of seconds. At first he was tense in surprise, but he quickly gave in, arms snaking around to hold me.

However, it was over before anything really began; the moment he relaxed I sat up sharply, grabbed my phone, jabbed a number for speed dial and brought it to my ear.

Tyson lay there and admired the view he had of my boobs for a few moments, and then he noticed exactly what I was doing.

"Hilary," his face paled and any dirty thoughts he might have had disappeared as he caught sight of my rather malicious grin, "Who-who are you calling?"

My smile widened as the person on the other end picked up, "Hey Kenny!" I chirped. Any colour left in Tyson's face faded as he suddenly cottoned on to my vengeful plan.

"Chipper? I don't know what you're talking about! Haha! Anyway, Tyson can't come into the lab today – I couldn't possibly let him leave the house, you see, he's moaning and groaning all over the place! Headache, stomach-ache…"

Tyson merely laughed at this, having spent many schooldays skiving by faking illness. But the next few words sealed his fate.

"…Oh yes, and cramps too – you see, he's on his Man-Period."

A look of pure horror passed over his face. He howled and flung me off him, diving for the phone, but I'd been expecting this and I managed to scramble up before he could reach me. I had a head start of about fifteen seconds as Tyson attempted to untangle himself from the duvet, so I sprinted into the kitchen.

Kenny was laughing so hard on the other end that I could barely comprehend what he was saying.

"Ooh, I don't know what you're laughing about, it's very serious! He can hardly get out of bed; I'm going to have to feed him chocolate all day!"

Tyson was out of the bedroom now and closing on me. I inched backwards around the table into the living room area.

"He should be fine by tomorrow though, you can expect him in at normal time."

Kenny just had time to express his most sincere condolences (or not) before I ended the call, turning to face my husband in triumph. Just in time too – a split second later Tyson tackled me and we both ended up on the sofa, the phone clattering to the floor, _Call Ended_ blinking cheerfully up at us.

Tyson groaned and buried his face in my stomach. "They're going to _kill_ me tomorrow," he moaned, "And you just signed my death warrant!"

"Ty, you said I had_ Tysonitius_. That doesn't even exist! The whole school is going to think I'm skiving!"

A little comforted by the knowledge that I was dreading going back to work too, Tyson grinned and propped himself up on his elbows.

"Well, Mrs Granger, we have all day to ourselves…what shall we do?"

I sat up sharply, cutting off his advances. "Woah, wait up mister! You're not getting _anything_ until I get my banana pancakes! Understand?"

Tyson groaned but I shook my head firmly, "Oh no, don't give me that! You promised!"

"Did not!"

Rats; that usually worked. I folded my arms and huffed, "You know they're the only reason I'm not dragging you halfway through Bakuten in your pyjamas right now!"

Tyson pouted, "Can't you just admit that you're gonna enjoy spending the day with me?"

"I'm going to enjoy spending the day with you. Probably. Banana pancakes please."

Tyson pulled a hurt face and shook his head, but seemed resigned to his fate, pulling himself up and towards the kitchen. I caught his hand and smiled.

"Thank you," I said sincerely, kissing him on the cheek. His sulk disappeared and he grinned back.

A few moments later, when I was laying the table and practically drooling in anticipation of my breakfast, he returned.

A sense of foreboding filled me as I saw his nervousness.

"Um…Hil?"

"Yes?"

He visibly flinched, "We don't have any bananas."

Let's just say I wasn't joking when I said that I would drag him through Bakuten in his pyjamas.


End file.
